Arthur Kirkland Starting a Band to Get a Date!
by Lady-Arsene
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is not remotely close to being popular. Alfred F. Jones is the highest level of popular there could be. Arthur fell in love with Alfred. And now Arthur must find a way to become more popular to win his heart... Even if that means starting a band with his siblings. (Inspired by the 2016 movie Sing Street.)
1. Chapter 1

The one thing about the Kirkland siblings that defined them was how unpopular they were. It was a mixture of the eldest brother being the principal of their high school, two of them being gingers with the overly curly hair and the abundance of freckles, one of them requiring glasses in order to see clearly, and the youngest one held a scrawny figure and overly bushy eyebrows. They were the group of siblings that were the laughingstock of the school.

Patrick Kirkland was the troublemaker of the siblings, however, he only got into trouble when he needed to defend either himself or his younger siblings. He often found himself in Principal Kirkland's, or rather big brother Allistor's, office attempting to explain himself. Then, later he would be serving his time in detention under the supervision of his brother. However, despite the rough and tough nature he displays, it's all an act to protect himself. He would do underlining anything to protect his siblings, it just comes off a little harsh.

Cormac Kirkland was the normal one out of the twins, and that's saying something since Patrick happens to be his twin. He was the only one without a part time job, since he was handed the responsibility of cleaning up the house and preparing every meal for the loud and obnoxious family. Despite not having a single class with Patrick, he's often around his twin-to keep Patrick out of fights or to explain to Allistor why his twin acted up-and there is absolutely no conceivable way those two would ever separate.

Dylan Kirkland was the sweetheart of the siblings, too bad everyone was far too busy picking on him to notice that. He wore ginormous black square frames on his face to aide with his vision, and on top of that, he often wore bow ties with his school uniform rather than the issued neck tie. To everyone around him; he was a dork. That was all well and good, but remember, this fellow is in high school. Being a dork in that setting will have you strung up and burned at the stake. He normally kept to himself, which is the smartest decision he could ever make.

Lastly, Arthur Kirkland was often the misunderstood one of the group. He came off as a grumpy old man stuck in a teenager's body. He was easily irritated, easily angered, and he was such an aggressive spitfire in an argument-and those ginormous eyebrows made him appear older than he actually was. Nonetheless, he still played tabletop Dungeons and Dragons with Dylan and would rather binge Doctor Who than be a functional member of society.

And unfortunately, Arthur Kirkland-on the dumpster tier of the popularity scale-fell in love with a boy who was on the highest tier on the popularity scale; Alfred F. Jones.

Arthur began to criticize his own complex feelings when he uncovered his feelings for Alfred. And an unhappy Allistor was forced to call Arthur sick from school, since Arthur was experiencing emotional distress.

But during those three days of absence, Arthur began to brainstorm ideas on how to wrangle up Alfred. However, most of the ideas weren't that up to snuff. Staring a book club to captivate Alfred's attention with interesting books and intelligent discussions? Not in a million years. Having a Dungeons and Dragons tournament and having Arthur come out on top? Try again, mate... Starting a band and playing gigs during school dances?

Not exactly the worst idea Arthur had.

Granted, the instruments needed to start a band were located in a storage unit under a tarp. Back when those four Kirklands lived with their father, their father bought them whatever they wanted so they would keep their mouths shut. Four instruments and a microphone later, and the four Kirklands had a band for a week before giving up. Arthur knew how to play some mean guitar, and held a singing voice for rock music. Patrick also knew how to play the guitar, since Cormac decided to learn the bass guitar and the two of them absolutely needed to play similar instruments. And Dylan's read a book, possibly two, about how to play the drums. If they dug up the instruments and began to practice, they could be the gods of the school if they tried hard enough.

And Arthur was somewhat concerned that he was actually considering starting a band with his own family... But, that didn't stop him from talking about it during dinner, which was on the third day of his absence.

Allistor was out on the town with the vice principal and the one of the librarians, leaving the other Kirklands to fend for themselves for dinner. While Arthur was busy completing the homework Dylan had brought home for him, Cormac was finishing up on making dinner. Patrick and Dylan were seated at the table along with Arthur, Patrick leaning back in his seat and staring at the ceiling while Dylan was bobbing his head to the beat of some song pouring out of the kitchen radio.

Eventually, Arthur was finished up with his homework right as Cormac was serving up beef stew and mashed potatoes. That was the moment when Arthur opened his mouth to say, "We should start a band."

Patrick had to stop shoving his face with mashed potatoes in order to slowly turn and look at his youngest brother. "Oi, Artie. No."

Dylan placed down his spoon onto the table before saying in a sweet tone, "Um, why do we need to start a band?"

"Because..." Arthur started, but stopped himself before he could reveal his crush on Alfred-but every single member of the Kirkland family knew about the crush. "...we might become popular."

Patrick scoffed. "It's a lil' too late for that, aye? Cormac and I are already seniors. It ain't gonna matter ta' us."

"Dylan's a sophomore, and I'm a freshman... It matter to us."

"Bein' a senior means I gotta worry Bout college n'-"

"Patrick, shut yer mouth n' let Artie talk." Cormac piped up, having a dignified look to his face despite slurping the broth of his beef stew straight from the bowl. "'Kay, Artie, keep talkin'."

Arthur presented a look of gratitude towards Cormac as he started to speak again. "I'm just tired of being the most unpopular person in school-"

"Sorry to interrupt, but, don't you like Alfred too?" Dylan interrupted.

"Uh, yes, sure Dylan. Anyway... We could play gigs during the school dances! Whenever Allistor is gone we can practice! Whenever we are bloody bored we can get together and write a song!" Arthur explained, and Patrick's attention was suddenly piqued. "Father bought us all those instruments when we lived with him. Isn't it about time we use them?"

The table was struck with silence, with a fresh wave of radio advertisements ensuring they weren't sitting in complete silence. Arthur was swirling his spoon around in his steaming hot stew while the other siblings were internally debating on Arthur's proposition.

Patrick was thinking about how everyone thought of him now, and what everyone would think of them if they started this band. Cormac was thinking about how this band could bring the family closer together, and how it might possibly get Allistor to stay home more often. And Dylan was thinking about how people would stop poking fun at him if he played drums alongside his siblings.

Patrick finished up devouring his meal before Cormac cleared his throat to catch everyone's attention. "Aren't the instruments in storage?"

Arthur shook his head yes. "Yes, Allistor put them in storage when we moved in."

"'Kay. Patrick, would ye be willin' to take us to the storage after we're done eatin'?"

Patrick shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he yawned. "I guess."

Dylan's face lit up before he took another bite of his stew. "We're starting a band!"

Right alongside Dylan, Arthur felt a smile creep up onto his face. "I can't believe you all agreed to it..."

"Well, Artie, ye better believe it or I can change my mind." Patrick stretched his arms well above his head, then he stood up to take his dishes to the kitchen. "N' ye better hurry up n' eat, so we can get goin'."

"Oi, if ye hadn't held off yer essay then we wouldn't be in a rush!" Cormac called out, setting his utensils in his bowl, which now only contained two small blocks of beef and a miniscule pool of broth, before he himself stood up to clean his dishes. "But, Pattie's right, we better get goin'."


	2. Chapter 2

The kitchen was all spick and span before the four Kirklands rushed on into Patrick's car to drive off to their storage unit-Cormac remembering last second any sort of identification needed for them to open their storage. In the car, Arthur slid in his precious ear buds to drown out the bickering between the twins in the front. He scrolled through his music selection before selecting some classic Beatles song to rush into his brain space. Arthur leaned over until his head lightly smacked against the window; sighing as he watched the scenery of the town roll by with glazed over eyes.

To be frank, Arthur was surprised that his siblings decided to endorse his vision of starting a band. He envisioned the discussion would've resulted in Patrick snorting at the supposed joke, Cormac kicking Patrick's shin under the table before yelling at his twin to be polite, and Dylan trying his best to stay out of it all and eat his stew.

He didn't expect it would end up with the four of them dusting off the instruments in the storage unit.

"Geez." Patrick coughed as Cormac and Arthur pulled the sheet off the instruments, causing the dust to blow everywhere. "With all this dust, who's ta' say these bleeding things still work..." He waved his hand around his mouth to try to send the dust away from him.

"I'm sure they do." Dylan said, eyeing the drums and poking the symbol with the pad of his right pointer finger-grimacing slightly at the colony of dust now resting on his finger. He rubbed his finger against the fabric of his pants to get the dust. "At least with the drums I know that..."

"We'll just have to clean them off. What a big deal, you babies!" Arthur pulled his long, grey, sweater sleeve over his hand before he began to wipe down the microphone and it's black plastic stand. "Other than that, we only ever used it once. Right?"

"Twice actually." Cormac said, glancing about the storage space for either embarrassing toys of their past or the two guitar's cases. "The night when Dad bought it for us, n' the night when Patrick cried 'cause the guitar was hard to play."

With that said, Patrick crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his emerald green eyes. "Aye, Cormac, ye better shut yer mouth 'fore I smack ye-"

"We'll definitely need some practice before we can perform. We can start by performing covers!" Arthur interrupted Patrick in order to vocalize his thoughts.

"Aye, that's all well and good, but how are we gonna get this all home?" Cormac butted in, causing Arthur to glance at him as the elder brother gestured to all the instruments. "I found the cases for the mic and the guitars... I don't think guitars have anythin' though..." Cormac lugged over the guitar cases before going back for the microphone case. All while Patrick, Dylan, and Arthur glanced at each other with uncertainty.

Oh, well that was a problem... Transporting the instruments home would be a struggle no one accounted for before arriving...

* * *

After much trial and error, they managed to get everything home and in the attic within two trips-without Allistor finding out when he returned home from a night out with his co-workers. Patrick scampered off to finish his essay due in the morning, Cormac bid his other two siblings goodnight before Arthur and Dylan went to their shared room for the night. The two swapped their day clothes for their pajamas then they slid into their warm and welcoming beds for a good nights rest.

Dylan removed his ginormous black frames from his face before setting them on the nightstand. "Hey, Artie." He called out, waiting for his younger brother to hum in acknowledgement before continuing-since Arthur's eyes were closed. "You really think this will make us popular?"

Arthur cracked open one eye to see Dylan glancing at him expectedly. He bit his lip, but his brunette brother couldn't see because of the lack of lighting. "I'm sure it will, Dylan."

"Good. I hope you and Alfred get together." Dylan let out a sigh of relief. "I don't wanna have Allistor be associated with the weird kid in school." He added, his voice becoming solemn and lowering in tone.

Arthur immediately felt a weight place itself onto his chest. The way Dylan phrased it with the singular form of 'kid' only seemed to crush him further. "Dyl... You aren't weird, okay?"

"I know... Everyone at school thinks I am... And so does Allistor..." Dylan sighed, still sitting up in his bed.

In one swift movement, Arthur reached his hand out to the lamp on the nightstand-accidentally grabbing Dylan's glasses in the meantime-to turn on the lights. Once that was accomplished, Arthur sat up and pushed the covers away from his body. "How about we write a song then? It will ease your worries, brother, I promise."

"Then we'll be tired in the morning..."

"Not if we pester Patrick to take us out to get coffee."

"Hm... I would like that very much, Artie."

"Splendid. Let's get started then, shall we?" With slow movements, Arthur got out of bed-his hair all ready messy and sticking up at random places despite lying down for three whole minutes-and tiptoed towards his backpack by the shared closet. He rummaged through it before pulling out an empty notebook and a mechanical pencil to write with. He grabbed his stuffed bunny from his bed-that had wings stitched into its back and it was oddly mint in color-before sitting down on Dylan's bed.

"One question, though. How do we write a song...?" Dylan asked, his question managing to stump Arthur.

"Uh... Well... I guess it's like a poem... I don't know how to write a song either..."

"Oh! If it's like a poem then we got this!"

"Sure... With that thinking we'll at least get a verse down."


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur Kirkland went to school looking like a ghoul after a long night of lyric writing with Dylan. Neither of the two fellows got a wink of slumber the night prior. They were too busy arguing about the chord progression of their song and if there truly was a word that rhymed with porridge. In the morning, Patrick was tasked with buying Arthur and Dylan some overly sugared coffee. Which, in the end, didn't matter one bit since Arthur nearly passed out in every class he went to.

However, during Arthur's period of being a library aide-which was the last period of the school day-the blonde was glancing over the lyrics he and Dylan concocted. An imaginary band was playing in his head as he read the small amount of lyrics scribbled in his notebook. He was having a grand old time all by himself, that is, until the other library aide came up to bother him.

Francis Bonneyfoy was the other library aide. Arthur's frenemy since they were toddlers-it all began with an incident involving escargot but that's an entirely different story. He was known for being the most gossipy person their school had to offer. So, it wasn't a shock when Francis was found snooping behind Arthur's shoulder. But, nonetheless it nearly gave Arthur a heart attack.

"Ah! Francis!" Arthur screeched when he felt a breathing down his neck. He slammed his notebook shut before clearing his throat to say, "You bloody frog! Why were you sneaking up on me?"

Francis released his famous 'Ohonhon!' giggle. "Becoming a Mozart, I see! Well, mon ami, I wish you luck!"

"You saw my lyrics?" Arthur asked, furrowing his brows in the process.

"Oui-Oui. They were melancholy, but très magnifique!" Francis admitted, finally moving out from behind Arthur to stand beside him. "Are you starting a band?"

"Uh well..." Arthur straightened out his back in his seat, before sliding the notebook down into his lap. "I think so... Unless Patrick changes his mind or Allistor shuts us down."

"You should let me design your clothes for your band!"

"Why would I ever let you do something like that?" Arthur retorted, a look of exaggerated disgust painting his face.

"I refuse to be associated with anyone who will wear an old sweater while playing rock music..."

"But it's my favorite sweater!"

"Non, mon ami... It's old and gross." Francis grimaced as he gestured to that very beige sweater that Arthur had on under his blazer. "I'll make all of you heartthrobs!"

"Thank you for the offer and all. But, trying to stuff either Patrick or Cormac in tight pants will result with you losing your head." Arthur reached for his backpack on the floor beside his chair, and slid his notebook into it.

Before Francis could utter another word, the school's bell shrieked and the sounds of classroom doors slamming open could be heard around the school-since the weekend had just arrived. Arthur hastily stood up from his chair and bid the dear Frenchman farewell as he made his leave from the library.

After that eye-opening fiasco, Arthur navigated his way through the swarming crowds of students trying to flee the school; all in order to reach his locker. He opened his locker and unzipped his backpack so he could put any unneeded textbooks he lugged around for the whole day-and to slip in his game set of Dungeons and Dragons to take home over the weekend. While at his locker, Arthur slipped out his precious notebook from his backpack before placing it over his shoulders once more.

Unfortunately, however, the school bullies were striding through the area when the saw Arthur flipping through his notebook.

The leader of the pack sneered, and with loud steps approached the puny Brit and snatched the notebook right out of his hands. "What's this, Artie? A diary or something?" The alpha announced loudly, causing the students walking by to stop and stare at the episode.

"We should read it!"

"Yeah! I bet there's embarrassing stuff in there!"

"C'mon, read it!"

Arthur bit his lip when the Alpha male flipped opened the cover. He glanced down at his fist and contemplated whether or not he should attempt socking him in the nose. However, Arthur didn't have to resort to violence. Since, Patrick has swooped in and punched the lead bully right in his nose.

The lead male cried out as he grabbed at his nose, dropping the notebook as he did so. The bully dropped down to his knees while he cupped his bleeding nose in his hands-everyone watching both him and Patrick with hungry eyes. Patrick was softly panting as he kept his fist down at his side, just a small thing of nose blood splattered on his knuckles. "I told ye ta' stay away from my family..." Patrick finally said, watching with bored eyes as the lead man slowly lifted himself up-some blood dripping out of his hands.

Arthur was about to thank Patrick and usher his elder brother away from the scene. Before he could do that, Principal Kirkland unfortunately came upon the scene. Any murmurs of conversation were hushed up as Allistor was examining the scene. Which eventually resulted in Allistor gritting his teeth and giving Patrick a glare. "Patrick. Go to me office. Right NOW!"

Patrick sighed as a look of sadness watched over him. He turned his head over his shoulder and look at Arthur with a look of overflowing melancholy, before obeying Allistor's commands and following the red-headed principal to his office.

Arthur quickly fetched his notebook from the ground before running after his two brothers. The conversations occurring earlier were sparked back up again. Conversations about Patrick's tendency to punch people, what was actually in Arthur's notebook, and is the bully's nose broken?

Out of the group, was a boy named Alfred F. Jones. He didn't partake in any in the conversations, nor did he help the bully over to the nurse. No, he simply stood there and glanced at the stairs. Feeling just the tiniest thing of empathy for poor Arthur.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Sorry if updates seem like they are coming out slower than usual. My brother is going to college soon, and I've been spending as much time with him as possible before he leaves. I hope you all understand. But, I will continue to update as much as possible for you all!**

* * *

Arthur hurried along through the halls on the tails of both of his siblings. Along the way he heard whispers criticizing Patrick for being sent to the office again, wondering what Patrick happened to do this time, and people saying they heard that Patrick socked someone in the nose-and also happened to smack lose a tooth. (However, that tooth bit was actually a lie... Unless the man had swallowed his tooth, then Arthur wouldn't know the truth.)

When he arrived to the school's office, he saw Allistor's office door closed, and Arthur could faintly hear Allistor yelling at Patrick through the door. Arthur learned the hard way not to barge into his eldest brother's office when he was in the middle of punishing Patrick. So, when he walked into the office, Arthur ventured over to the door and placed his ear against the oak. Closing his eyes as he eavesdropped on their argument.

"Ye can't end every argument with yer fist, Patrick! We've had this discussion so many times! It's like I'm talkin' to a brick wall!" Allistor yelled, Arthur imagining the scowl painting the Scotsman's face.

There wasn't a response from Patrick. Arthur heard somebody huff, but he wasn't quite sure who did.

Arthur heard a small thud hitting the wood desk, like Allistor had propped his elbows up on his desk. "Ye need to stop gettin' into trouble-"

"Ye don't get it, brother!" Patrick finally shouted, his voice sounding strained. "I punch those people straight in the gob, 'cause someone's gotta be there to protect our younger siblings!"

"Patrick, ye know I'm doin' everythin' I can to-"

"Well, it ain't enough, brother. Artie an' Dylan are still gettin' picked on! If ye even cared..." Patrick sighed. "Ye would've stopped it by now... Not to mention, ye would be home more often. If ye didn't care for us, ye shoulda just left us in that orphanage."

Arthur heard Patrick begin to walk over to the door, causing the youngest Kirkland to back away from the door before the ginger-haired Kirkland could fling it open. Arthur flinched when Patrick slammed opened the door, Patrick's eyes were visibly turning red alongside his entire face, as his eyes became glassy in appearance.

"Patrick..." Arthur said softly, as if he was afraid that Patrick would crack and begin sobbing right then and there.

Patrick opened his mouth, ready to say something. However, he quickly closed it and wiped his eyes with the cuff of his sleeves. He kept his head down and quickly brushed passed Arthur to exit the office, looking so defeated.

As much as Arthur wanted to linger about and think about Patrick's behavior. He would rather not have Allistor exit his office and discover that Arthur had been eavesdropping. So, Arthur decided to put a skip to his step and book it out of the office before he could get yelled at.

Arthur decided to leave the school instead of tracking down Patrick. He knew that Cormac's twin senses were tingling, and Cormac probably already dragged Patrick to someplace secluded were the elder of the twins could bawl his eyes out-and later deny it if it was ever brought up. Second, Arthur also had to report for work in the next forty-five minutes, and he needed to start walking if he wanted to be there on time.

The blonde Kirkland worked in a small bookstore, which was located in a small strip in the edge of the downtown district. It was a ten minute drive from the school, and a thirty minute walk from the school. So, Arthur walked with his mind wandering to the argument that Allistor and Patrick had.

Frankly, Arthur hadn't seen Patrick that upset ever since... Well... Ever since their father ditched them one night at an orphanage two years after their mother died. Patrick became a sort of mother hen to his siblings, trying to make them forget about what their father did, and tried to keep everyone happy so they wouldn't think of their predicament. Then, Allistor came in a month later, adopting his siblings and taking them home. At first, Allistor really did care for them. He basically cut off everyone from his life in order to take care of his younger siblings. But then, everyone grew up, and Allistor began to cut his own siblings away. Since then, Patrick's taken the responsibility of his younger sibling's well-being into his hands once again. Even if his methods are just a tad more violent than his previous methods...

But the rest will have to wait, since Arthur was closing in on his job and all.

Arthur walked into the small little shop and was hit with the stench of freshly brewed coffee that radiated from the apartment above the bookstore. The owner of the store, a plump old lady who happened to be the grandmother of two students from his highschool-the girl of those two always being mistaken for her brother, so she wears a bow in her hair, walked down the steps. "Oh, good day, Arthur! You're early!" She exclaimed, setting down a mug of coffee for Arthur when the blonde walked behind the counter.

"It's better to be early than late." Arthur smiled as he sat himself down in the creaky wooden chair behind the counter. "I decided to leave early too since Patrick couldn't drop me off today."

"I'm glad you could make it today. I'll be upstairs if you need me, okay?"

Arthur nodded as the old lady slowly ventured back up the stairs, leaving her employee alone to tend to the store.

On most days, the bookstore would receive one costumer who was looking for one of the great classics. Or, a student from the high school would show up to poke fun at Arthur before leaving. However, a cherry red sports car rolled up into the small parking space in front of the bookstore. Arthur glanced up from his notebook filled with lyrics to see who parked, and came to the conclusion that there wasn't anymore parking in front of the famous knick-knack store just down the street.

When the door opened, Arthur glanced up once more. And saw his crush Alfred F. Jones standing there.

"A-Alfred...?" Arthur said, quickly closing his notebook.

"'Sup, dude." Alfred casually greeted, walking up to the counter with his hands in his pockets.

"What are you doing here? Better yet, how do you know about where I work?"

"Everyone in our grade knows where you work. It's so they can come pick on ya."

"Oh... Well... Nevermind that! You didn't answer my first question!"

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay." Alfred replied, nearly causing Arthur to become a flustered, blushing, mess. "You were about to get punched if your bro didn't step in."

"Yes, I'm fine... You should really be asking your friend that question. Rumors are going around that he swallowed a tooth from Patrick socking him."

"He isn't my friend, dude."

"He's not?"

"No, he's a douchebag."

"Oh..."

The two of them sat in silence for a bit, the snoring of the old lady upstairs being the only instance of sound in the entire room. Eventually, Alfred cleared his throat and said, "Well, it's nice to see that you're fine. Uh, I'll be going now..." He pointed his thumb backwards towards the door, before he turned himself around.

"Um, goodbye..." Arthur said, a bit unsure about his farewell.

"See ya' dude."

The little bell above the bookstore's door rang as Alfred opened the door and left. When the door closed, Arthur indulged in a deep breath to calm his racing heart as he began to rummage through his bag for his phone. Once he had his phone, he sent a group text to his new band mates.

'We're having practice tonight.'


	5. Chapter 5

"Patrick... I don't think that's how you hold a guitar."

"Nu-uh, I'm sure this is how ye hold it, Artie. Uh, well... I think this is right..."

"Cormac has it right. Your right hand isn't supposed to be holding the neck... Even if that's your dominate hand."

"Oh... That doesn't make any sense..."

"Your opinion doesn't matter, Patrick. Fix it or we won't be able to play anything before Allistor gets back!"

Patrick grumbled profanities, which were directed towards our lovely Arthur, under his breath as he switched the position his guitar was in. Cormac dusted off one of the many old oak chairs, their sides chipped away due to their childhood selves picking away at them, before giving it to Dylan so he could sit on it. "When is Allistor gonna to be home, anyway?" Cormac asked, now dusting off another wooden chair and sitting himself on it. "I gotta get supper started 'fore he comes home."

"Allistor should be home in twenty or so minutes." Arthur absentmindedly stated while he was toying with the mic stand, even though he hadn't planned on singing nor on plugging it in to any amplifiers.

"I'd rather prep supper than face the wrath of Allistor." Cormac admitted, about ready to lift the bass guitar strap off of his shoulder. "I'm gonna sit this one out."

"Nu-uh, bro." Patrick shook his head. "We gotta practice."

"But we also gotta eat!"

"I don't think Allistor needs ta' eat as soon as he gets home!"

"But he won't yell at us if I get supper prepped!"

Even though Dylan wanted to stay out of the twins' argument, he knew at this rate they would not have gotten any practice in, nor would Cormac be able to begin cooking for the entire family. "Um... Lads?" Dylan raised his soft voice, for once in his life, in order to break the twins out of their argument. "How about we practice for ten minutes...? We'll get somethin' done and then Cormac can go get supper ready."

"That sounds good ta' me. How bout ye, Cormac?" Patrick asked, with his twin nodding his head to Patrick's question. "Then let's get goin'"

Arthur decided it was his time to step back in. "Alright, you lads have to learn how to play your instruments before we can make songs. So~" Arthur pulled out his miniature pocket notebook from the pocket on his school blazer. He flipped to three different pages and ripped them out before handing one page to each of his siblings. "At my job I found a few books about your instruments, and I wrote down the pointers from those books so you can learn the notes easier."

"Thank you." Dylan said, immediately scanning over Arthur's cursive writing and beginning to familiarize himself with all the cymbals and drums he was sitting in front of.

Patrick and Cormac repeated what Dylan said, and begun to play random notes on their respected guitars and finding out what sounds they liked and didn't like. All while Arthur sat back and envisioned that everything was going to sound nice and lovely by the end of the week.

Everything was going pleasant. Until Allistor came home earlier than usual and saw that Cormac wasn't getting dinner ready, and heard a clash of instruments he was sure were in storage.

Allistor sighed as he slid off his coat and slipped off his shoes. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he kept listening to a clash of instruments, obviously being played by beginners. He began to walk up the stairs and found that the ladder for the attic was down, and the attic floor creaked with every slight movement. Allistor climbed up the ladder and soon caught the sight if his siblings attempting to form a band.

When the siblings each saw Allistor was home early, they slowly stopped playing their instruments and gawked at their eldest brother. Cormac immediately threw off his base guitar and bypassed Allistor in order to descend the ladder and rush to the kitchen-leaving his siblings to face the wrath of Allistor Kirkland.

"What're ye lads doin'?" Allistor asked, his voice cracking from his attempts to contain his anger.

"We are... practicing." Arthur replied, avoiding eye contact with the red-headed Kirkland.

"For what?"

"...our band..." Dylan muttered, twiddling his thumbs while keeping his gaze fixed on his feet.

"Ye ain't got time for a band, lads. Ye gotta worry 'bout school. Especially ye, Patrick."

"Especially me?" Patrick said, rolling his eyes as he set down his guitar. "Is it 'cause I keep gettin' into trouble? My grades are fine, an' I already got scholarship offers. It's just cause I'm protectin' our brothers at school." Patrick sighed, he appeared visibly upset for the second time that day. He brushed past Allistor and headed down the ladder- the noise a door slamming shut echoing throughout the house shortly after.

Boy oh boy, was the remainder of that day tense.

Everyone was silent, and didn't dare utter a word. Patrick had locked himself away in his and Cormac's shared bedroom, but Dylan brought him some dinner after setting it outside the door. Everyone ate in silence, and everyone refused to even glance at each other.

Later that night, Arthur aided Cormac in cleaning up the dinner plates before retreating to his room before Allistor could berate them for standing around. Dylan was all ready present in their room-having placed his dinner plates in the sink and jolting up the stairs and straight into his room-lying back in his bed and staring at the ceiling. "Hey, Artie..." Dylan greeted, in a melancholy tone, when Arthur entered their shared bedroom.

"'Ello, Dyl..." Arthur replied back, going to his dresser and pulling out his favorite pair of pajamas, before heading into the bathroom attached to their room to change. He tossed his day clothes into the hamper before he went back to the bedroom, and crawled into his warm and welcoming bed.

It was only seven at night, and each of the Kirklands had went to bed.

However, when it was nine o'clock at night, the creaky bedroom door began to open slowly. Arthur and Dylan's heads poked up from their covers to see who, or what, was attempting to enter their room. Two figures quietly entered the room, "Oi Artie, Dyl, are ye two up?" Patrick's voice quietly called out after the bedroom door was closed.

"Now we are." Arthur sighed as both he and Dylan sat up in their beds-Arthur placing his stuffed Flying Mint Bunny on the floor so Patrick wouldn't laugh at him for it. "Why are you two here?"

"Do ye two wanna write a song?"


End file.
